Refreshed!

I have been watered by the children.


Ever go into your garden or out onto your lawn and know just by looking at it that it needs water? Such has been my life and spirit lately. I have needed watering. I have been found wanting for refreshment and nurture. I have been dry of heart and short of stamina in my spirit for some time now, but only recently have been able to name it. In talking with my wife, Nancy, a week or two ago about a growing urgency for some prolonged time away, her immediate response was, "Well, I could have told you that. You haven't taken more than a couple of days here or there since last November and you are starting to get short with everyone, including me."

Well, there it is . . . I am in need of watering, much like the crops in the fields of this region in the midst of the drought. Jesus went up to the mountain to get away, even stole away a few moments to sleep in the front of the boat during a storm . . . and I don't have the good sense to do the same.

Then I received a phone call from a friend and colleague in ministry, Rev. John Holst, whose daughter is organizing special programs for a Science Camp at DuBois Conference and Retreat Center, our Illinois South Conference, UCC, church camp near DuBois, Illinois. John called asking me to put on a one hour program for 4th and 5th graders focused on a faith based understanding of the drought. I told him I thought I knew a few farmers who could do a better job, but he persisted in his request for me to do it since he thought I could give it a faith based understanding. I thought, 'Who better to talk about a drought than one who is feeling pretty dry.' So, this morning I journeyed to DuBois Center and met with 14 young folks who stole my heart and managed to water my thirsting soul.

Fourteen pre-teens in their second day of camp, feeling their awkwardness with each other as strangers, yet wanting to coalesce as a group, bonded by their knowledge and experiences, hungering only for more than what the world offers, and led by an incredibly international group of young men and women, met with me after their morning 'Blast' of Bible study and craft time. Fourteen young folks with the temerity to sign up for a Science Camp in a Church Camp setting. Fourteen young folk who, in their home and school settings are the ones who will be voted by their classmates and families alike, "The Ones Most Likely to Succeed". Fourteen children of God who, quite truthfully, scared the bee-jeebers out of me for what they already knew and would be expecting of me in talking about the current drought . . . and this morning I faced them with only a half dozen dead soybean plants and one dried up corn plant in hand - and the Spirit of God at work in this place.

We started out planting Marigold seeds in moist dark soil near Oak Lodge, seeds which had been left on the concrete floor some minutes before by 'Doc' who had told them the Parable of the Sower. All had assumed those seeds would have no life and each had walked all over them, leaving them to the wind, the birds or whatever else might pick them up. Then, while they were working on crafts, I gathered them up in my hand, poured them back into the discarded Marigold package and waited for their attention. Once we were together, we took the recovered seeds and gave them the home they needed . . . and then the campers did the same with me.

The world, as seen through the eyes of 10 and 11 year olds, is an incredible world, indeed. They already understood drought, yet spoke in terms of hope. They understood the loss of crops and still believed in and spoke of 'God provides', Manna. They embraced the notion that less than one percent of our nation is actively engaged in agriculture, but also owned the reality that all people must share God's abundance and care for each other, no matter the vocation. They set their sights higher than the trees and sank their roots deeper than the span of those limbs below the ground. They announced the nurture of God's baptismal reign with waters of blessing, flowing mightily along the banks of my cracked and creviced soul, rescuing me from the heat and strain of days too long without relief.

I have been watered by the children, both in their laughter and questions.

I went to teach and was taught. I went to nurture and was saved. I went to lead and was led beside still waters. I went to share faith and, there, found mine restored.

I have been watered by the children and, though I know my own deep need for intentional Sabbath yet remains, now feel ready to serve another day. Thank you, DuBois Science Camp campers! More than ever I could have imagined, God is at work in you bringing rain where most it is needed. The drought may not be over in our region, but you have quenched this thirst of this one soul and I am grateful.

I have been watered by the children . . . and I pray you will be, too!

Storm Cabbage

Two days ago, Nancy took a head of cabbage to my Dad's home and another to my brother's home, a 'sharing of the gifts', if you will. The heads of cabbage are nearly as big as bowling balls and are as sweet and thick as cabbages could hope to be, (said as modestly as a gardener might) some of the best we have ever raised and . . .

These heads of cabbage were the 'storm cabbages'. They were ravaged by the intense hail storm we had some weeks back and I was ready to pull them out and start over, so complete their 'destruction'. God's creation is simply remarkable in its capacity to regenerate and begin anew and we, you and I, are constantly invited to be witnesses to such a profound truth expressed in such organic a manner.

Which got me to thinking about the ways we threaten and coerce each other, not just globally, but also locally and even personally. Do we really believe that we hold such power over others and creation? Do we really believe that we are the 'master' of our fate and control the fate of others? Do we really believe that ours is the final voice that matters? Do we really believe that we can rain down the power of hail - or of bombs - or of legislation - or of special interests - or of political correctness - or of abusive relationships - or of isolationist self-interest, covering the ground, filling the sky, polluting the air . . . and our Creator God won't have the final word about the outcome?

The cabbage tastes good. Our 'storm cauliflower' was delicious. Our 'storm banana peppers' are incredible and our 'storm tomatoes' are not far away.

Perhaps we would be well served to study the world around us and ponder our place in the universe in considering our relationship with each other. We are not as big as we think, neither are we as determinant as we believe. If plants like cabbage, cauliflower, peppers and tomatoes can arise from their grave of hail and produce abundantly, what else might God be capable of despite us?

Just when we think we are at the top of the food chain . . . we find God already is. I love it . . . and pray you do, too.

A Stitch in Time

Last evening the St. Paul UCC Women's Fellowship held their Annual Mother's Day Celebration Event. Focused on the theme of 'Quilts', many in attendance had brought special, precious quilts which had been made for them or which they had made. I was in awe. Some well over 100 years old, one still in the quilt rack in which it is being quilted, and the rest everywhere in between, each told a story, each revealed a tenderness, and each touched a heart. From a grandmother's wish for her granddaughter to a whimsical interpretation of raising a grandson, from a quilt made from feed sacks to one made from ribbons, from one which told various Biblical stories to one which told the stories of a daughter's sports accomplishments, all bore the sacred stitches of love and passion which only a quilter can fully fathom and appreciate. For folks like me who are more interested in how a quilt feels on a cold night than the pattern and stitching with which the quilt was made, it was an evening of apocryphal proportions. The nearness of the Kingdom was announced in a language and with a heart that few among us truly know, but all can savor and understand.

One quilt which captured my heart wasn't even there on display, yet was the focus of the program compliments of a wonderful Power Point program: The Patriot's Quilt told the story of an array of women whose contributions to the Revolutionary War helped write the history of an emerging nation. It was a history lesson no class on early American history ever taught - and being a history major in college, I can assure you (at least when I attended college) no such class was even offered. More is the pity, yet incredibly powerful the lesson taught in the blocks of a quilt.

Such are our lives in the hands of God: each of us a stitch in the Master Design; each of us an intentional connection to the other; and, each of us a part of the Story. Though our human minds and wisdom are unable to comprehend the whole of the beauty, I believe, in the moment we enter into the fullness of God which we call the Kingdom, there we will see, there we will know, there we will be known in the completion of the Pattern. Inconceivable as it might seem, such is the power of the Quilter's Hand and we are both, observer and participant in what is, even today, being created. Look and see.